


Snapshot

by fireun



Series: Interactions [2]
Category: Weiss Kreuz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-17
Updated: 2010-06-17
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:04:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireun/pseuds/fireun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If ever a creature had been created to be enthralling it was Schuldig.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshot

They weren't the coffee and breakfast in the morning sort of people. There wasn't a pleasant smell in the air that was a mix of toast and aftershave each morning, the radio didn't play the weeks hits or less than stellar talk radio. There was silence, the sound of chairs scrapping across the floor as someone stood, as someone sat, huffs of absentminded amusement as something caught someone's attention in the paper, on the computer.

Crawford had the businessman's air without the accoutrements, that sense of having somewhere important to be, meeting important people and discussing little things with big impacts. His tie was perfect, his hair parted precisely so, and glasses never allowed to slip down his nose.

Schuldig would be damned and skinned alive before he would do something so mundane as pack together Crawford's lunch before the other man left for the day, but he was not above a nuzzle and grope as much for irritating and distracting as an attempt at seduction. His hair was mussed, tangled still from last nights bedroom endeavors, the cat-in-cream look on his face could have been leftover as well, or could have resulted from the way Crawford had to bite back a snarl at every attempt at distraction.

If ever a creature had been created to be infuriating it was Schuldig.

Crawford gathered paperwork and slipped it into a briefcase that oozed professionalism as much as the perfect crease in his pants and the shine to his shoes. Schuldig slipped sensuality through the air, an intoxicating miasma just as dangerous as the anglerfish's lure.

And just as unavoidable.

Crawford's face was a baffling mix of frustration and fondness, an expression only Schuldig could translate with success, catching every nuance, knowing when to press his luck or back away. Now was the time to press forward, rubbing morning stubble against Crawford's perfect morning shave, to inhale cologne and nip lightly at Crawford's jaw.

If ever a creature had been created to be enthralling it was Schuldig.

It was the reason Crawford planned that extra bit of time into each morning.


End file.
